CarrollBlog

Almost every morning I see him hurrying up the sidewalk to who knows where. He's one of those homeless people who has turned some pivotal psychic corner into surrender or flat out madness. His hair has not been cut for what looks like a year, his clothes are tattered, the sole on one of his shoes is half-detached and flapping, the skin on his face is the color of a book that was once wet and then dried into a strange splotched gray. He never makes eye contact with anyone. He carries a bright yellow and red plastic bag from a supermarket that he uses to store stuff he finds digging in the trash baskets up and down the street. When he's not poking through the trash, he's always rushing somewhere. Every time I see him I wonder where are you always going in such a hurry, and what is in that bag today? What have you found that you think is worth taking home?
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"I do believe that you can never know yourself, let alone the person next to you, let alone the person halfway across the world. Yet at the same time, I believe there is nothing like fiction to fully thrust you into someone else's consciousness."

Nam Le
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interesting one from KW:

www.schoolofeverything.com